


blessed

by slightlied



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life, happy birthday victor!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 14:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13148847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlied/pseuds/slightlied
Summary: Victor’s a cuddler, which is a surprise to absolutely no one. The man is huge, all broad shoulders and lean muscle and long limbs meant for being wrapped around someone else. Yuuri.





	blessed

**Author's Note:**

> for [asce](https://lovelytitania.tumblr.com). love u and happy belated birthday <3 and happy right-on-time birthday to victor <3 
> 
> day 1 / 12days of forovnixmas

∞ 

Victor’s a cuddler, which is a surprise to absolutely no one. The man is huge, all broad shoulders and lean muscle and long limbs meant for being wrapped around someone else. Yuuri.

Victor’s a cuddling _expert_. Not that there’s a particularly right or wrong way to do it. There are many different ways to cuddle someone, and Yuuri learns that Victor actually invented them all. 

There is, of course, the Classic Cuddle. One pair of arms around the shoulders, the other pair around the waist. Throw a leg around the other person’s hips for a Classic Cuddle Deluxe. This is Victor’s favorite television-watching position, and it always ends with them spending the night on the couch because Yuuri can never bring himself to force their bodies to separate. He always tells himself that he doesn’t mind, the stiff back is worth it, and it always is. 

There is the Sloth, which is less of a cuddle and more of a plea to _go back to bed, Yuuri, please, where are you going, please stay please please please,_ as Victor clings to Yuuri’s arm with his entire being, channels all of his energy into seizing the one limb. It’s cool. Yuuri doesn’t need his left hand anyway. It’s not the jerk-off hand, plus he wears his ring on the right. Victor whines again when Yuuri tells him this. Yuuri tells him to let go or he’ll piss on the bed. 

“Uh huh, maybe I’m into that,” Victor mumbles into his shoulder, squeezing tighter.

“ _Shut up_ , are you. Okay, if you’re being serious then that’s valid, but it’s seriously not the time to discuss this, am gonna burst—“

“Ugh.” Victor shoves at him, flops back onto the bed. “Just say you don’t love me anymore and go.” 

Yuuri flees for the bathroom. He calls over his shoulder, “I’m sorry. Ten seconds, tops. I love you so much. We can talk about your, uh, the pissing. Later. Ten seconds.”

“Oh my god, no I was—”

“Sososo much! Love you so much.”

Sometimes Victor is Horny But Too Lazy To Do Anything About It: he’ll slip his hands under Yuuri’s shirt, dig his fingers into warm skin, grind his hard-on against Yuuri’s ass. He’ll press sleepy kisses against Yuuri’s neck and promise, “In the morning. In the morning… gonna… take care of it in the morning, baby… gonna be so...” before he’s out like a light.

Sometimes Victor just wants to be as close as possible, pressing every inch of his body against any available surface area of Yuuri’s. He likes to tuck himself under Yuuri’s neck, even though his hair tickles and Yuuri can’t help but giggle, just to feel his body shaking beneath him, just to feel his heart rate go up up up. Sometimes Victor shrinks himself as small as possible, will try to fit himself into a little ball against Yuuri’s chest to listen to his heart properly. 

“Want Otabek to remix the sound of your heartbeat against mine,” he whispers.

“You weirdo,” Yuuri whispers back, carding gentle hands against silky soft silver hair. Sounds like a tongue-twister. 

_Silkysoftsilverhair, silkysoftsilverhair, silkysoftsilverhair._

Sounds like a moment he wishes would stretch into infinity. 

“Wanna like, hook us up to those heart monitors. At the hospital, right. And then he could record it like that. And then. Chicka-chicka-brrr.” Victor tries to imitate the sound of a record scratch. Yuuri snorts. 

“Why is it on a record player. You’d press the remix into vinyl?” 

“It’ll outlive us,” Victor says solemnly.

“Weirdo,” Yuuri says again. He presses a kiss into his husband’s hair.  _Silkysoftsilverhair._ “Let’s ask tomorrow.”

Sounds like _never let go._

∞

Other times, Victor likes to be the small spoon. Yuuri’s arms are super warm and they curve perfectly around Victor’s body, his lips brush just barely against the back of Victor’s neck when he exhales in his sleep, _of course_ Victor likes being small spoon. Yuuri has no specific preference, so long as Victor’s next to him. 

Tonight, though, he’s glad he’s big spoon. No vice-like grips on his person means it’s easy to extricate himself from the bed. There is usually no situation where Yuuri would willingly remove himself from a cuddle with Victor, but tonight. Tonight’s the only night he has to finish preparing Victor’s present because Victor’s been extra clingy lately. 

(“It’s my b-day,” Victor said cutely, every day for the past month, on days that were not his b-day. “Hold me.” 

Yuuri held him, every day for the past month, on days that were not his b-day. He will hold him tomorrow when it is b-day, will hold him until his next b-day. Will hold him always and forever and never let go... except for right now at this moment, which is totally justified.) 

Yuuri slips out of the bedroom quietly, careful not to wake up Makkachin where she’s curled up at the foot of their bed. He takes Victor’s present from where he hid it behind the vaccuum, because Victor would never fuss anywhere near there—something about the dirt particles attaching themselves to his skin and settling into his pores and ruining _literally everything._

The frame is heavy, rosewood and walnut and freaking beautiful, Victor’s gonna flip because it matches their dresser. It’s exhilirating, being able to recognize the things that Victor would love. Yuuri almost knocks it against the marble of the kitchen countertop while he’s wrapping it, but finally he finishes sticking a bow on the top and settles down to write the card. The wind is _loud_ outside, howling against the window as snow falls down on St. Petersburg, and Yuuri lets the soft whistle of the cold air carry his hand into some sort of rhythm while he writes. 

He’s in the middle of his fourth metaphor about Victor’s eyes when he feels a weight against his back.

“Whatcha doin’,” Victor’s voice is soft and slurred against his ear. Yuuri freezes. “Come back to bed, c’mon.” 

Victor winds his arms around Yuuri’s middle, turns his face into the side of Yuuri’s neck. One leg hitches up to cross over Yuuri’s thighs. Another addition to his repertoire. Yuuri isn’t sure what to name this cuddle. 

“I’ll be right there,” Yuuri says. He slides a hand over the card, trying to be discreet. If Victor turns his head he’ll see his present right there. “You go, I’ll be right there, promise.” 

“M’kay,” Victor murmurs comfortably. He doesn’t move. After a few seconds a soft snore tickles Yuuri’s skin, and Yuuri realizes he’s fallen back asleep. Upright, three-fourths of his appendages wrapped around him, and everything. Yuuri barely holds his giggle, doesn’t want to shake him awake. 

He finishes writing his card like that, Victor wrapped around Yuuri, Yuuri wrapped around Victor’s thumb. It’s not A Moment, but it’s. Something in his chest explodes, settles into his gut like confetti falling gently through the air, burrows right against the skin where Victor’s hands are pressing. He can’t take a picture of this moment so he tries to draw it, a crude little doodle in the corner of the cardstock. Draws five more hearts than is necessary. 

(Contemplates drawing a dick and like, pissing visual effects but decides that’s too much for _birthday_ and _Christmas_ , files it away for _Valentine’s Day._ ) 

Writes a neat little label underneath it.

_B-Day Cuddle. 1 of ∞._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading :)


End file.
